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by Saetha



Series: Ladyhawke AU [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dwalin whump, Fighting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Ladyhawke AU, Skinchanging, Thorin whump, awesome Dis being awesome, fem!Óin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin and Thorin get attacked by soldiers just as they are about to change. Both are wounded but somehow they have to make it back to their village to get help...</p>
<p>Part of my Ladyhawke AU, Day and Night. Knowledge of the other stories not essentially necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand the second bday story for Ivana! \o/ This one turned out much much longer than I thought it would but I'm glad I could finish it - I've been wanting to write it for ages an my dearie's bday was the perfect excuse ;D.

They should have stopped a while ago. Sundown was very close at hand and they would have to make sure to find a place for their change, somewhere that the transformation could take place undisturbed, away from prying eyes and potential foes. Normally they would have done so already - today, however, the closeness of home was calling to them and they wanted to crest the next hill from which they would be able to see the valley that the hidden village of the dwarves was in before the sun set. It had been a few decades already since they had been struck with the curse and the past was still close enough for both of them to feel its embrace and the longing that it brought.

There was a cave close by and they endeavoured to reach it before sunset would force the change upon their bodies once again. Thorin propelled himself into the air from Dwalin's shoulder to get a last overview of their surroundings before they would be forced to hide away for a few moments.

Thorin saw them at the same time that Dwalin heard it - orcs and men, an entire patrol of them together, an unusual sight so close to their village and away from the borders of Smaug's land.

It seemed like they had sensed them too, for one orc pointed at the raven hovering above and Thorin had just enough time to evade the arrows shot in his direction. He gave a warning cry to Dwalin down below as the soldiers sped up and soon engaged the dwarf in combat.

Thankfully there weren't too many of them and when Thorin swooped down to bury his claws in their opponent's eyes and use his beak to hack bloody wounds in their skin Dwalinwas quick to make use of the soldier's distraction. After the change had come into their lives they had learned quickly to accommodate it and fight together as their current forms dictated. Throughout the day or night they could have finished off their attackers quickly - not so now, however, with the change so close at hand and already pulling at the very fabric of their bodies.

Dwalin growled, dispatching another two orcs with the sweep of his axe as Thorin was distracting them. He could feel it as well - the urge to go somewhere quiet and safe, the quivering of bones inside his body as it was close to changing its form, teeth and claws ready to break free. Thorin's wings were getting heavy already and he knew it wasn't long until he would have to land - but he also knew that it would mean his own death should he drop to the ground amongst their foes and Dwalin's demise should Thorin leave him to search for a different place to change.

"Fly away!" Dwalin shouted at him between clenched teeth. "Go, Thorin, go!"

His eyes told Thorin what he didn't say out loud - _and then come back and either avenge me or help me defeat them_. Thorin made an angry noise but he had to concur that it was the only way that they might both survive. With one last vicious sweep of his beak at the eye of an orc he swooped off towards the side and through a few trees before the transformation ripped him out of the air and let him plummet to the ground, hopefully far enough away to grant him at least a few moments of reprieve.

The change was brutal this time, leaving him gasping in agony and biting his tongue bloody in order not to scream and give away his location. He forced his limbs to move as soon as possible despite the lingering pain inside, not caring that he wasn't wearing any clothes and had no weapon to fight with - as he broke into a run he snatched a branch from the ground but everything else in his mind was solely focused on getting to Dwalin as fast as possible. He could hear a yelp that only spurred him to move faster and soon the backs of the fighting men and orcs came into sight. Thankfully Dwalin had dropped their bundle of weapons and clothes close by and Thorin was quick enough to grab his sword before he shouted loudly to gain their foes' attention and divert it at least momentarily from Dwalin. His tactic seemed successful - the four remaining soldiers, two orcs and two men, turned their heads to look at him and it was all the pause that Dwalin needed to get out of their grasp.

Three of them split off to throw themselves at Thorin, obviously thinking that one of them was enough to deal with the wounded wolf. It didn't take long for Dwalin to catch himself enough so that he was able to throw himself at the remaining orc, his eyes wide and savage as the frenzy and bloodlust took complete control over him. Thorin only had the chance to catch a quick look at Dwalin's bleeding hind leg before the other fighters were upon him.

Despite the lingering weakness in his limbs from the change Thorin met them head-on, a shout forming on this lips as he raised his sword, only able to think of the blood he had seen dripping from Dwalin's grey fur.He dispatched the first attacker quickly, but the other two proved harder to bring down and without any protection or armour his skin was completely exposed to even the slightest slash. Two fighters normally meant little trouble for him but he was still weak from their long march on the day and the change and these soldiers had been expertly trained. Thorin raised his arm to block one strike and twisted out of the way of another, feeling the blade graze his side and leave a hot trail in its wake. With a kick he made some space for himself but the orc on his one side was fast, already aiming for another strike against his torso. Thorin cursed and forced his knees to give way so he could duck under the strike and slash forwards at the same time.

The same moment that the orc raised his arm to reiterate, however, a snarl sounded in the air and he abruptly toppled forwards as he was hit by the full weight of an angry wolf. Thorin saw immediately that Dwalin had lost himself in blood lust once more; his eyes were wide and he didn't even seem to feel the deep and bloody wound on his hind leg as he snapped at the orc's throat. Thorin retreated, trying to deal with the other foe that was still left even though exhaustion was sweeping over him and made him careless. Dwalin quickly dispatched the orc he had been attacking, blood dripping red from his snout as he came after the last one that Thorin was fighting against. Thorin stepped back, knowing better than to get into Dwalin's way when he was like this and almost grateful that he would get a little break.

As soon as their last foe was down he returned to the bundle that still lay where Dwalin had dropped it and threw on his pants and a tunic before turning around again to look after his partner. Dwalin was still standing amongst those he had killed, hackles raised and his teeth bared in a silent snarl. Thorin could see him trembling violently and knew that the blood loss was getting to him; his brow creased in worry he slowly came closer, leaving his weapons behind and holding his hands out to show he wasn't there to do him any harm.

"Hey, Dwalin, it's me," he said softly. He saw Dwalin flick one of his ears, but the alertness in his posture didn't soften. Carefully Thorin took another step.

"You know. It's Thorin. Dwalin..." he kept talking, quietly and in a relaxed voice which he knew would calm down the wolf in front of him. It took him a while, but finally Dwalin relaxed as normality returned in his eyes and he whined as he took a few quivering steps towards Thorin who caught him in an embrace as the wolf collapsed.

"It's alright now," Thorin told him, never stopping to stroke his fur. "Sssshhhh. It's alright."

Dwalin whined again, the sound muffled by the fabric of Thorin's clothes. They stayed like that for a moment longer, reassuring themselves that they were both still alive, before Thorin gently nudged Dwalin to get back up.

"We've got to find shelter for the night," he told him. "Can you walk?"

The wolf snorted derisively and made an effort to stand although he didn't put any weight on his hind leg and Thorin could see that he was still trembling. He frowned and shouldered their pack with sigh, knowing that the cave they had wanted to change in wasn't too far away. With a little pat on Dwalin's head they were on their way, Dwalin limping along behind Thorin who made sure to walk slowly his enough so that his partner could follow him. He turned every few steps to see whether Dwalin was still there and it was obvious how the pain was flooding back into the wolf’s body now that the adrenaline and blood lust had both worn off.

They were getting close to the cave when Dwalin’s body finally gave in and he collapsed to the ground with a quiet yelp. Thorin cursed and turned around immediately. Dwalin was trying to get back to his feet again but failing, his hind leg giving in already even when tried to only put a fraction of his weight on it.

“Wait,” Thorin cautioned him as he hunkered down to get a better look at him in the rapidly falling darkness. Dwalin growled quietly although Thorin knew it wasn’t directed at him, but simply an expression of Dwalin’s annoyance with his own weakness. Thorin looked at the weight of his own pack and then down at Dwalin again.

“Wait here,” he told him before he covered the last ground towards the cave, only to drop their pack in there and immediately return to his partner’s side. He ignored Dwalin’s attempts at getting out of his grip and lifted the wolf up in his arms, his muscles and fresh wounds protesting after a few steps already. Clenching his teeth, he walked back towards the cave with careful steps; if he stumbled now he wouldn’t be able to get back up, he knew.

Dwalin whined and twisted to try and lick his face, making Thorin smile a little.

“Ssshhhhh, stop moving or I might drop you,” he rebuked him gently and Dwalin huffed slightly, but didn’t move anymore until they had finally reached the cave.

Thorin put the wolf on the ground as carefully as possible and was barely able to keep his own knees from buckling after he had done so. Dwalin made a worried little sound but Thorin just waved a hand at him.

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured although he knew he didn’t exactly sound convincing and couldn’t suppress a groan when he knelt down to start a fire in the little ring of stones on the cave’s floor that was still there from the last time. Dwalin twitched as if to try and move in his direction, but Thorin shook his head and told him to wait just a few more moments. He rummaged in their pack to get everything he needed - bandages, a set of needles and thread, Óin’s special cleaning solution, some herbs, clean cloth and a pot to heat water in. Dwalin eyed his movements suspiciously and moved back when he saw Thorin coming towards him. Thorin rolled his eyes and hauled him a little more closely to the fire so he could inspect his wound in its light since almost complete darkness had fallen outside already.

The edges of the wound were deep and ragged and Thorin frowned when he saw it, trying to keep Dwalin from pulling his leg away from his probing fingers. It didn’t look good and Thorin could already feel how heated the edges were. His frown deepened as he began cleaning the wound, having Dwalin’s upper body firmly wrenched between his arms to keep him from moving and ignoring the quiet growls that were coming from his partner in the process.

“Keep still,” he told him gently. “Or it’ll take even longer.”

Despite the fact that he hurried as fast as he could, it still took him longer than he wanted to clean the wound and carefully sew it and then wrap it up again. By the end Dwalin was squirming so much that it was hard to keep him still and Thorin didn’t object when he pulled free with another growl once the wound was finally cared for. The wolf glared at Thorin from a handspan away, not happy with the pain he’d had to endure but knowing that it had been necessary.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin said quietly, holding out his hand in Dwalin’s direction. “But you know I had to do it. Otherwise the wound might have killed you.”

He didn’t have to add that it still might, especially since wounds like that were often prone to infection and the fact that their strength was being sapped away by the transformation twice a day often meant that their wounds took much longer to heal. Dwalin looked at him for a moment longer before he came closer again and licked Thorin’s hand, pressing his head against his chest not much later. Thorin embraced him and planted a gentle kiss into the fur on his head, humming an old song under his breath that he knew would calm them both. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to stay like that forever – with each passing moment the ache from Thorin’s own wounds seemed to get worse and he groaned slightly when he finally let go of Dwalin and reached for Óin’s cleaning tonic and a cloth again.

He looked at Dwalin and waited for the wolf to leave and wait outside, like he always did when Dís or Óin were looking after his wounds – the smell of fresh blood had never been kind to the wolf and although Thorin was firmly convinced that his partner would never harm him, he also knew that Dwalin didn’t trust himself as much and liked to be careful. Dwalin did indeed take a few limping steps towards the mouth of the cave before turning around again and cocking his head. Then he returned, settling down on the floor next to Thorin with a quiet but firm huff and put his head on Thorin’s knee, his body radiating warmth and safety.

“You sure?” Thorin asked him.

Dwalin huffed again derisively and gave him a glance that could almost count as a glare and which Thorin took as a rather firm ‘yes’. He just shrugged and began to remove his shirt, gritting his teeth as the cloth ripped open the wounds on his body again. Dwalin didn’t make any sound when Thorin gripped his fur from time to time to steady himself and catch his breath again throughout the ordeal of having to undress, clean his own wounds, and somehow sew them up without making everything worse. It took him a lot longer than it should have, weakness making sparks linger in front of his eyes as each moment seemed to shoot yet another bolt of pain from a different place through him. There was a larger cut in his back that he was unable to reach; therefore he had to be content with somehow trying to dab it dry with Dwalin’s help and binding it, but being unable to sew it up properly, something that Óin would surely reprimand him for, he knew. For now it was all that he could do, however, and it would have to be enough. Dwalin was already nodding off next to him, the weakness from the blood loss together with the light draught against the pain and to induce sleep that Thorin had mixed after one of Óin’s recipes taking effect. Thorin placed his hand on Dwalin’s head and petted him gently, longing to get some rest but not sure it would be wise.

It was still another day and a half worth of swift walking until they would actually reach the village and he feared that Dwalin would not have it in him to travel that far, not without much better care than Thorin would be able to give him at the moment. Additionally, somebody would have to watch out should another troop of soldiers be nearby. To be caught in their sleep meant to die. He settled back against the wall of the cave, as close to the fire as possible and with Dwalin’s head on his knee. Only the discipline of several decades kept him awake and the knowledge what would happen if he failed. Still he must have begun dozing towards the end of the long night for it was Dwalin nipping him lightly into a finger that woke him up.

Looking around it became clear to Thorin why the wolf had woken him up – dawn was near and Dwalin knew how much Thorin hated to go into the change unprepared. There was a bad taste in Thorin’s mouth and he felt stiff, his wounds aching worse and worse. The first he did after drinking some water was to check on Dwalin’s injury, frowning as he felt the hot skin around it and sensed the bad smell. It wasn’t looking good and the fact that Dwalin protested his ministrations only weakly only served to further that judgement. The decision of what to do came quickly to Thorin.

“You’ll spend the day here,” he told the wolf. “I’ll fly on ahead and get help.”

Dwalin shook his head weakly, obviously trying to protest.

“No. I’ll be faster alone,” Thorin said firmly. “Don’t try to follow me, you hear me?”

Dwalin just stared at him defiantly and Thorin glared right back, knowing that he had to make his partner listen. The wolf would never survive it if he attempted to walk back to the village on his own. Thorin would be much faster when he was flying and might make it in time to get help for him. With quick fingers he penned a short note to his sister, rolling up the tiny piece of paper so that he would be able to carry it later.He didn’t have time for any more words –just then the first rays of the sun came up over the horizon somewhere beyond the light fog that seemed to be enveloping their cave and the change grabbed hold of them again.

It took Thorin a while to pull himself together afterwards – the trembling in his limbs just wouldn’t stop and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t quite get his wings to lift himself up into the air at first. Dwalin seemed just as bad, if not worse, curled up on himself and tremors passing though him again and again. He opened his eyes when Thorin finally managed to hop close and croak quietly, taking hold of a blanket with his beak and drawing it towards Dwalin so he could cover himself.

“Don’t go alone,” Dwalin pressed out between clenched teeth. “Just give me...a moment...”

He obviously tried to get up but Thorin just croaked, this time more loudly and butted his head in an obvious signal to stay down. Dwalin smiled weakly and Thorin rubbed his head on his arm briefly before hopping out of the way, picking up the piece of paper and forcing his wings to bear him upwards into the winds. Every beat of them was a struggle at first until he was finally up high enough to simply glide through the air in the direction he thought their village was in. It was hard to see with the fog and the lowly hanging clouds but Thorin had flown here hundreds of times and it was easier from the air than from the ground where he would have been hopelessly lost within moments. Nonetheless, it took him quite a while to reach the village and the sun was already high on the horizon when he landed on a branch close to his sister’s house. His back was screaming at him and he knew he had to move fast if he didn’t want the pain to take over his entire body. Dís would not be home at the moment he knew –even though she was heavy with her first child, she and her partner were both far too busy to interrupt their normal routines yet. Víli was working hard on the construction of the new mine at the moment and so they would likely have left the house very early that morning to be there when the work started. Dís would either be in the forge next to the house or wherever she was needed in the village. Thorin hoped that she was in the forge for that would make it far easier for him to find her.

He spread his wings and swooped down in a wide arc towards the forge that wasn’t far from Dís’ home. Now that he was closer he could see and smell the smoke coming out of the chimney, a definite sign that someone was working in there. He landed on the muddy ground, spreading his wings to keep them from getting dirty as he hopped to cover the last bit of distance to the door and rapped his beak against the reinforced wood, hoping that Dís would hear him. He stepped back just in time before the door opened and revealed his sister, frowning as she looked outside and didn’t see anyone at first.

Thorin croaked as loudly as possible with the piece of paper in his beak and Dís immediately looked down, frowning as she recognised the raven on the doorstep of her forge.

“Thorin!” she exclaimed loudly in surprise, looking around quickly if nobody had heard her slip and use Thorin’s real name, but there was none inside. Thorin croaked again and with a last bout of strength he flapped his wings and rose up in the air before landing on his sister’s shoulder, knowing that the pregnancy made it harder for her to reach down to the ground.

“Hey.” Dís reached up with her fingers to pet her brother’s head and remove the paper from his beak. Thorin recoiled, staring in obvious distaste at the soot staining her fingertips until she chuckled and moved to the bucket with water to wash her hands. It didn’t take long for her to notice that something wasn’t as it should be, even before she unrolled and read the note Thorin had penned for her that night.

“You’re hurt,” she said quietly, frowning as she looked at the blood on her fingertips. Her eyes widened in fear when she connected the dots. “Where’s Dwalin?”

Thorin beat his wings again and croaked, his voice full of dismay. Dís unrolled the little piece of paper and Thorin could see her expression darken as she read the few choice words on it. By necessity Thorin had been forced to be brief when writing and had only managed to pen down that Dwalin was injured and needed help and where he was. More than anything Thorin wished he’d had the voice right now to tell her exactly what had happened to Dwalin and where he was at this moment.

Dís immediately began cleaning up the forge so it could be left alone after she had coaxed Thorin onto the wooden rail that was sitting in one corner. She eyed him critically before shaking her head at the still open wound on his back.

“We’ll go get Óin and then see if we can take out some of the more courageous ponies and a small cart to get to Dwalin. She should take a look at you as well, this doesn’t look good.” Her probing fingers came close to the wound for a moment and Thorin jumped aside with an annoyed noise.

“Hold still,” Dís told him angrily. Thorin knew that the anger was her own way of expressing her worry about him and Dwalin. “You shouldn’t be flying at all like that, and you know it. Come here.”

After a moment Thorin hopped on the arm that she stretched out in his direction, walking up onto her shoulder where he nuzzled his head quickly on her cheek and beard as a sign of affection. Dís sighed and reached up to scratch him under his chin, knowing that it was Thorin’s favourite spot.

It didn’t take long until she had locked the door to the forge and was on her way to Óin’s. Their old healer was at home and thankfully there were currently no other patients occupying her main room. Instead she had evidently been busy with sorting and grinding some herbs for her various tonics and draughts as was evident by the strong smell in the room and the various things strewn on the side table. The dwarrowdam took one single look at the raven on Dís shoulder and let them in with a nod.

“What happened?” She was already pointing at the large table for Thorin to sit down although he refused to hop down from his sister’s shoulder at first until Óin’s glare made it clear that she would tolerate no nonsense from him, something that the healerhad proven often enough before. With a gentle, yet firm gripped she plucked Thorin from Dís’ shoulder, ignoring the raven’s protests. As Dís was briefly telling her about the note she had received from Thorin and the plans she had to get to Dwalin as quickly as possible Óin kept looking at the wound on Thorin’s back and the other, smaller ones that he had treated so hap-hazardly the night before. She kept shaking her head, cleaning the wounds again with another one of her strongly-smelling tonics as she listened to Dís talk. Thorin croaked and tried to get out from under her hands, but to no avail.

“I’ll sew it up tonight after the change,” Óin stated matter-of-factly. “For now, can I rely on you not to try and fly again? If not, I might have to bind your wings.”

Thorin croaked indignantly but was wise enough not to try and flap his wings as Óin’s hands left him. Instead he simply hopped aside and glared at her as he began preening his ruffled feathers whilst Dís explained her plan to them.

“We’ll take three ponies and hope they won’t bolt once they get close to Dwalin. I thought about taking a cart first, but it would slow us down too much so we’ll have to somehow carry Dwalin on one of our ponies on the way back. It will be close to nightfall when we arrive so we’ll wait until he is in wolf form and take him on one of the ponies. Hopefully at least one of them will stay calm enough. It will be risky, but it will be the fastest way for the two of us to get there and help him.”

Óin nodded and immediately began to pack her supplies, occasionally asking Thorin about Dwalin’s state in simple questions that could be answered either with a yes or no, so the raven could either nod or shake his head. Dís returned to her home in order to gather clothes and provisions and everything else they would need, leaving Thorin alone with Óin for the moment. The dwarrowdam seemed to sense Thorin’s agitation, for she sighed and reached over to pat his head very lightly.

“Dwalin will be fine,” she told him. “He’s hardy enough. And since you cared for his wounds and he was still conscious this morning when you left...I have faith that he will be alright.”

Thorin croaked quietly and inclined his head a little in thanks. He knew Óin would never say those words if chances were bad; her brutal honesty had always been one of her defining traits. Together they waited for Dís to return and it didn’t take long until Thorin’s sister entered the healer’s home again.

“I’ve talked to Víli and Balin and told them where we are going. The ponies are waiting outside. If we hurry, we might make it before nightfall.”

Óin nodded and pointed at Thorin.

“Are you going to take him?”

Thorin cocked his head at her question and looked at his sister, knowing that she would have an easier time of interpreting whatever he was trying to tell her. She knew the cave he had written about in the note, but it had been a while since she had been there last and Thorin would have to come with them to show her the way should she go wrong.

“Yes. In fact, I’ve thought of something, since he isn’t supposed to fly.”

Thorin noticed her little smirk too late – at that moment she had already taken hold of him, hands clasped gently around his body. With a quick movement she dropped him into the sling across her chest and that had been given to her not long ago for carrying her first child once it arrived. Thorin croaked indignantly, trying to wrestle himself free of the cloth, but the hold was solid, warm and, he was forced to admit, even slightly comfortable once he gave up fighting.

“Shush,” Dís told him sternly. “I won’t risk your own life, not even for Dwalin’s sake. He’d be more than angry with me if he knew. And this is the safest way for you to come with us. You’re far too heavy to ride on my shoulder or arm for the entire way.”

Thorin knew he had lost, but didn’t give up without glaring at the two dwarrowdams around him and croaking loudly once more. Dís just patted him on the head and he grumbled something in his throat, hoping that this would at least mean they would be off all the more quickly now. Her pregnancy made it much harder for Dís to climb onto the pony and sit on it once she was up; but not a single word of complaint left her mouth and Thorin knew that whatever he couldhave said it wouldn’t have swayed her determination. He only hoped that nothing bad would happen and there would be no more patrols of soldiers around. Both Dís and Óin were good fighters in their own right, but it would only complicated matters further.

They rode off as swiftly as possible, tension and grim silence in the air as they all hoped they wouldn’t be too late to get to Dwalin. Despite Óin’s reassuring words from earlier and his own knowledge of Dwalin’s strength Thorin shuddered when he thought of what they might be finding in the cave when they arrived. For the most part, the journey was uneventful – the only things they met were a few squirrels and birds in the trees on the side. Thorin croaked when it was time for them to leave the main road and wriggled in the cloth, desperate to fly ahead and see how Dwalin was faring.

Dís shushed him and directed her pony onto the small path that led to the cave, reach over to briefly pet Thorin’s head with her thumb before focusing all her attention back onto the way again. It was late in the afternoon when they finally reached the cave, the path to it thankfully clearly visible. The closer they came the more impatient Thorin became; he longed to spread his wings and see Dwalin and the delay proved agonising for him. Dís could feel his impatience but there was little she could do; they were already going as fast as possible and being any faster would have endangered both herself and her pony. The animals got skitterish the closer they came to the cave, smelling the faint smell of wolf in the air that never left Dwalin even throughout the day.

When the mouth of the cave finally came in sight there was nothing that could hold Thorin anymore, especially when he saw the dark and unmoving shape further in next to the fire that was only coal and ash by now. He croaked loudly and began pecking at the cloth, trying to free his wings. In the end Dís relented and released him and Thorin, ignoring Óin’s warning from before, spread his wings and was with Dwalin within a few moments.

He anxiously hopped closer and only breathed a little more easily once he saw that Dwalin’s chest was still moving underneath the blanket covering him. Dwalin’s eyes were closed and he nuzzled his head against his cheek with a soft sound coming from his throat, hoping that it would wake him up. Dwalin shifted slightly and grumbled something but didn’t open his eyes. Thorin croaked loudly, afraid of what was happening. He shifted to start pecking Dwalin's skin gently, not hard enough that it would leave serious wounds but so that he would hopefully notice what was happening. There was another murmur that sounded suspiciously like "No, Thorin" but Dwalin's eyes still didn't open. Thorin was kept from doing anything else by Dís' strong hands closing around him and gently pulling him away from his partner.

A few comforting words left her mouth but Thorin could hear the worry in them as they both watched Óin kneeling down next to Dwalin and putting a hand on his forehead, then taking a look at him and his wounds, particularly the one on his leg. She frowned and wrinkled her nose slightly when she saw the putrid infection that had already taken hold of it, but there was still hope in her eyes and voice when she looked up again.

"We'll have to get him back to the village as soon as possible," She asserted. "I'll drain the wound here and do the best I can, but as soon as he changes we'll have to get him back somehow. He will have good chances to survive should we make it back in time."

Thorin croaked, still looking on worriedly as Óin performed her ministrations on Dwalin, wishing he could help somehow, especially when Dwalin shouted in pain despite being already half unconscious. Dís let him go after a while so that he could huddle close to his partner but it only seemed to help very little. Shortly before night fell and their transformation was imminent, Dwalin opened his eyes although they were hazy with fever.

"Thorin," he whispered, his hands making fluttering notions in the air. "Where-"

Thorin croaked and hopped onto his chest so that Dwalin might be able to see him and feel his warmth but halted in his movements when there was no recognition in Dwalin's eyes.

"Thorin." Dwalin's voice was louder, more urgent as he kept calling for his partner, unable to recognise the raven in front of him as Thorin. Dís put a hand on his arm and tried uselessly to calm him down and trying to soothe his fear that Thorin was dead. Thorin retreated into another corner of the cave, Dwalin's shouts reminding him of the moment when they had first been struck down by Smaug during their attempt to kill him. He told himself that the shivers running through him came from the cold and the weakness that his own wounds were spreading through his body but of course he knew better deep inside him. Once Dwalin had quieted down he looked for his own corner where he could go through the transformation in peace.

Nonetheless he was at Dwalin's side as fast as possible afterwards, taking little time to put on some pants himself and ignoring the pulling of the wound on his back as well as the wetness of blood on his skin as it began bleeding again from the force of the change. The wolf whined quietly but didn't move away when Thorin carefully touched his head and began to rub him behind his ears, knowing that it was the place that Dwalin loved to be petted at the most. Only moments later Dís and Óin entered the cave again, immediately beginning to prepare for their departure. Óin threw one misgiving glance at the wound on Thorin's back, insisting on at least cleaning if it not sewing it up before she threw him a few more clothes. They barely exchanged a word as they were getting ready. Thorin kept insisting that he would take Dwalin up on his pony together with him, but both dwarrowdams resisted his notion vehemently.

"You are weakened enough as it is," Óin told him grimly. "It won't help anybody if you fall off your horse with Dwalin. He will be much safer with your sister."

Dís nodded at her words.

"You can trust me, Thorin. I'll take care of him. And my pony is the calmest of all three as well, it's unlikely to panic even with an unconscious wolf on its back."

"He should be close to me," Thorin told her, his voice still rough from the change and everything they had been through.

"Once we are back, he will be." Óin's voice was gentle, but firm. "But for now it's better for all of us if you both make it home safely, if separately."

Thorin was too weak to keep resisting them any further and could only watch with helpless frustration as Dís mounted her pony and Óin carefully helped hefting up the lifeless looking wolf onto her lap. Her pony looked nervous and kept skittering, but at least it wasn't trying to flee. The other two ponies had stepped back as far as possible, Óin's one rolling its eyes in fear. Thorin hated to admit it, but the two dwarrodams had been right: they would need all their strength to get back home safely.

Just how weak he was emerged when Thorin clambered up onto his own pony and tried to hold on as the world began spinning around him. At least the animal knew its way back to the settlement so he could let it go its own way, only having to pay attention that it wasn't getting too close to Dís and Dwalin and would be spooked by the presence of the wolf. The next moments were barely more than a blur, the journey through the valley back to the village of the dwarves all turning into one as often as Thorin tried to think back to this seemingly endless night. He dimly remembered almost falling off his pony twice but somehow he made it back to the village even though he couldn't quite recall how.

Suddenly there were lights around them and strong hands holding him, the smell of burning wood and tar in the air as the torches they had been carrying on their way back were being extinguished. He was more being carried than he walking inside Óin's hut by himself and a thought shot through his mind.

"Dwalin. Don't take-"

"It's fine." That was Víli's voice, Thorin thought dimly. "Dís took him home where your secret will be safe."

"Good," Thorin murmured. "That's...good." Then darkness finally overwhelmed him.

*

The transformations the next day and night were shrouded by the shadows of unconsciousness and pain that Thorin awoke from only briefly, barely realising what was happening, only knowing that it hurt. It was early morning when he awoke again and he could feel the wound on his back burning, still clouding his consciousness with fever and pain. He tried to spread his wings but found that he couldn't; someone had bound them to his sides, presumably both to cover the wound and keep him from flying. Turning his head he saw that he was in his sister's house, a small candle burning on a table next to the large chair that Dís had fallen asleep in, her hands resting over her belly as if she wanted to protect her unborn child from everything the world might be throwing at it.

The candle threw enough light so that Thorin was able to see the large and bulky shape in the bed right next to him. He croaked very quietly and hopped closer so he might be able to see Dwalin's face. Dwalin was sleeping deeply and his breathing seemed to come a little easier than before, although there was still sweat on his forehead from his fever and his heart seemed to be beating a little too fast when Thorin shuffled closer and put his head to the side of his throat.

Dwalin shifted slightly and Thorin took enough courage from the slight movement to come closer and finally sit directly on Dwalin's chest where his warmth was flowing into the raven's body, comfortable and tiring. Dwalin grumbled something and after a moment a hand snaked out from under the blanket and softly rested on Thorin's back. The pain from the touch was far surpassed by the comfort from it and with a satisfied little sound Thorin put his head on Dwalin's skin and was fast asleep again soon after.

The days that followed where a haze between waking and sleeping, the pull of the transformations the only constant that guided them through their days. Dwalin was recovering more slowly than Thorin, but there was still a steady improvement visible and bit by bit the fever receded and the horrible wound on his leg slowly closed although there would always be a large scar remaining there, almost a twin to the one on Thorin's back although that had never been as life-threatening. Óin continued to care for them although her task was soon taken over by Dís and Víli, making Thorin feel guilty about being cared for when they both had so much to prepare with their little one on the way.

"Nonsense." Dís waved her hand at him one evening when he sat down exhaustedly after helping only a little with their housework. Dwalin whined quietly and limped over to him, putting his head into Thorin's lap so that he could scratch him. "You'd do the same if any of us were ill, I'm sure. And you can always return the favour once the little one is here. I'm sure we'd all appreciate some help then."

"Of course," Thorin told her and Dwalin gave a quiet 'woof' in agreement.

"See, then there's nothing to worry about." Dís grinned as she came over to ruffle Dwalin's fur and press a quick kiss on Thorin's forehead. "And if you truly want to be of more help you can review the accounts for all the grain we bought in the last few months. Something doesn't quite add up in there but I'm not sure which trader it was who swindled us."

Thorin chuckled involuntarily and accepted the stack of papers Dís was holding out in his direction, propping them up on Dwalin's head so they were easier to read. Dwalin grumbled slightly and then sneezed, scattering the stack all over the floor at Thorin's feet. As he was scrambling to pick everything up and at the same time cursing Dwalin in all ways that came into his head he finally allowed a small measure of peace to return to his heart that had been rather shaken by the events. He didn't know whether he and Dwalin would ever be able to rid themselves of the curse or if they were going to get themselves killed beforehand. What he knew, however, was that no matter what would happen, he would always be able to count on his family, partner and friends.


End file.
